


Obsession

by Chromi (orphan_account)



Series: Thirsty Prompt Fills [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: Marco did not get sick. Ever.And yet Marco seemed to be suffering a serious affliction for the first time in his recent memory, or even the more long term memory, in fact.It was all Ace’s fault. It was so much simpler to lay the blame on the naive party than to do some much needed soul searching.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Thirsty Prompt Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761259
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the [One Word Prompts - Whitebeard Crew](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19321228) on June 27th 2019. Moving to it's own entry to bring the collection's rating down to T!

Marco did not get sick. Ever.

His devil fruit powers prevented him from catching so much as a common cold. He could heal any injury, could rid himself of all viruses, and could even grow back limbs if he ever found himself in a truly unfortunate situation. He still kept up to date with vaccinations, however; as a doctor, he thought it best to practice what he preached, after all.

Marco did not suffer any lasting mental trauma, having come to terms with his horrifying childhood long ago in the arms of an adoptive father and grasp of many brothers. He had forgotten the face of the mother who had abused him in her drug-fueled hysteria a lifetime ago, had forgotten what it was like to live without parental love that was so strong it was almost palpable.

And yet Marco seemed to be suffering a serious affliction for the first time in his recent memory, or even the more long term memory, in fact.

It was all Ace’s fault. It was so much simpler to lay the blame on the naive party than to do some much needed soul searching.

If he was honest with himself, Marco knew his problem had begun the moment he saw Ace and his previous crew being carried on board. Marco had been in the medical bay when Ace had awoken and turned violent upon learning his whereabouts, but Marco had silenced the sudden inferno with his calming, life-giving flames. The attraction was instant for him, watching the awe on Ace’s face despite himself, unable to hide his fascination in someone else’s fire that was so entirely unlike his own.

But this sickness, this sudden feverish heat that settled in his abdomen and refused to leave, had been triggered by Ace receiving his tattoo across his back.

They had all thrown a party, of course. The crew used any excuse to throw a party and get more rowdy and drunk than on a regular day. They, like everyone else in the vicinity, had had far too much to drink when Ace had gracelessly grabbed Marco round the neck with a grin and pulled him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. He had kissed back, taking Ace by the waist and searching that hot mouth with his tongue, only pulling away when Thatch had slapped him on the back with a roar of laughter and offered Ace a kiss as well.

The sickness had hung over him ever since, growing into something vile and diseased in him as he had watched Ace from afar, waiting for some kind of sign to show that that had been more than a drunken grab at a close body.

And it had come only days later. Ace had cornered him (and Marco had allowed him) in the smaller of the two shared commanders’ bathrooms on the flagship, pressing hungry, searching lips to his own in wild abandon as the Fire Fist had rid them both of their clothes with deft fingers.

It had been fast and desperate and so uncharacteristic of both of them, but neither felt they could contain themselves now that the wall had been breached in what had turned out to be a fantastic drunk idea. Marco had come with his chest pressed flush to Ace’s back, their tattoos rubbing slick with sweat, his face buried in thick black hair and fingers entwined with the younger man’s against the tiled wall.

He admitted that he had an obsession with bringing Ace’s tattooed back to his own inked chest.

He found it near impossible to concentrate whenever Ace was nearby thereafter, watching him from the corner of his eye as Ace went about his business without a damn top on every single day. Marco knew that Ace was aware of precisely how it affected the older man, and oh, did he roll with it.

Marco had wanted to stab himself with something sharp on the day he witnessed Ace weightlifting on deck, biceps and back muscles swollen with the workout and dripping with sweat. He had obediently trotted after Ace when he went to put the weights away and had found himself balls-deep in a searing hot body that was high on adrenaline in record time, Ace bracing himself against the lockers lining the changing room wall with his forearms, heated breath steaming the cool metal against his lips as he snapped his hips backwards to keep up with Marco’s fevered pace. They had learned by now to keep lube handy for these spontaneous sessions.

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other and Marco’s obsession writhed within him, lusting for Ace in ways he had never known or thought even remotely possible.

It was going to become a problem if they didn’t keep themselves in check, both acutely aware of how they were slipping into the abyss of desire for one another.

But it didn’t stop them.

Before all this happened, Marco would have never guessed that Ace could be so completely accepting of his strange ache for the ink on his back. There was no arguing that Ace was definitely aware of the reason for their lack of mixing up positions, always finding himself moaning into a surface of some description as Marco pressed kisses to his shoulders, his neck, his hair.

But then one night, curled up in Marco’s large bed together, Ace dictated their position for the first time.

“I want to see your face as you come,” Ace mouthed to Marco’s lips, swinging a leg over the blond’s hips and straddling him, meeting the instinctive grind of Marco’s pelvis into his ass as he settled. With one hand steadying himself against Whitebeard’s mark, Ace guided the thick, hard cock below him into himself, already well and truly prepped by Marco’s long, talented fingers.

He set a fast pace as was so usual for them, the slap of his hips and pants and gasps of air sending that familiar curl of _want_ roiling deep in Marco. He thrust up into Ace, fingers sliding up his spread thighs with an appreciative groan. This was _good_. Being able to clearly see Ace’s expression of unrestrained desire and lust was better than he could have imagined. Marco palmed at Ace’s dripping cock before taking it in hand, drowning in the guttural moan and harsh exhale of breath this elicited from his partner.

Ace came first, fingernails digging into Marco’s thighs below him and painting Whitebeard’s navy blue mark in the white of his ecstasy. Marco was consumed by the sight above him, losing himself to the tight, slick heat and moaning Ace’s name as he let himself _go_. They remained bound together for an unusually long while afterwards, Ace’s forehead coming to rest against Marco’s as their breathing gradually calmed. He tilted his head for a better angle and kissed the older man slowly, sensually.

“You have no idea how incredible you look when you’re feeling it,” Ace smiled against Marco’s cheek. “Taking it from behind is fucking great and all, but I want to watch you lose control of yourself more often.”

And Marco agreed, unable to form words just yet as pleasant shockwaves still trembled up his body from the intensity of his orgasm. He threaded the fingers of one hand through the unruly black locks framing his partner’s face, smiling as he was kissed again. He rather thought Ace had no right looking as indescribably hot as he did when at the height of passion.

And so Marco’s obsession evolved further, aching and yearning for Ace in any way possible at all, no longer being fascinated so exclusively by his mark.

Marco knew he had it exceptionally bad.

Marco found he did not care.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to fill [my Tumblr](https://chromiwrites.tumblr.com/) inbox with prompts, nonsense, or anything at all! I love to chat TT
> 
> Comments and kudos let me know if I'm doing something right, and I always love your feedback!


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